


30 Days of Sherlolly

by Raelynn



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 30 days of sherlolly, F/M, prompt fills, unconnected ficlets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-23 14:11:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2550452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raelynn/pseuds/Raelynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So in November I'm doing 30 days of Sherlolly from a series of prompts.  One will be posted each day, first to tumblr, and then here.  They are unrelated ficlets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Holding Hands

“Sherlock, I’m exhausted. Can’t we run the last of these samples in the morning?” Molly pulled off her gloves and rubbed her eyes. She was at the end of a twelve hour shift, and now Sherlock wanted her to stay longer.

“A man’s life depends on this, Molly. We can’t just leave!”

Molly yawned and looked up at the clock. “Sherlock, I really need to go home.”

Sherlock glanced around the lab, frustrated. “I need you, Molly!” he whined. Molly rolled her eyes and sighed. “I need sleep, Sherlock. I’m going home, which means you need to get out of the lab because Mike says I can’t leave you in here alone.” She turned to head toward her office to retrieve her bag.

“Right,” said Sherlock. “Coffee. Let’s go!” Striding over to where Molly stood, her hand on the door, he grabbed the pathologist by the hand and led her across the lab and out into the hallway.

After a few minutes of walking through the hallways, Molly looked up at Sherlock. “Sherlock? What are you doing?”

Sherlock looked down at Molly as they made their way through the halls of St. Bart’s. “What? We’re walking to the canteen to get you some coffee because you’re tired and I need you to finish running those samples for me. Since if I leave you in the lab, you’re likely to sneak out and go home, I’m keeping you with me.”

“Yes,” said Molly slowly. “I get that. I’m completely irritated by that, but I get that. However, it doesn’t explain why we’re still holding hands.” She lifted her hand, tightly encased in Sherlock’s larger one. “See?”

Sherlock hummed noncommittally, and continued walking towards the canteen. Molly couldn’t help but notice that he kept her hand in his. “Are you doing it because you think I’ll escape and run away if you don’t keep a hand on me?” she asked, pressing the subject.

Sherlock stopped and turned to Molly, still not letting go of her hand. “I honestly didn’t notice I did it, Molly. Do you object?”

Molly looked down at their hands, and then into Sherlock’s eyes. “Well, no. Not as such. It was just unusual. You don’t usually like touching people at all, and you have very rarely touched me. Wait. I’ve been at work all day, I’m exhausted. Am I hallucinating?” 

Sherlock stopped walking, and turned to Molly. Closing his eyes for a moment and then opening them again, he smiled at her. “I grabbed your hand to get you out of the lab and away from your office and your escape. I kept your hand because,” he paused for a moment. “Because it felt nice.” He shuffled his feet and looked off over her head, clearly uncomfortable.

“Okay.” said Molly, resuming their walk to the canteen.

“Okay?” asked Sherlock.

“Yup. Okay. I’m not going to overthink this, for once.”

Beside her, the consulting detective smiled a smile to himself, and continued walking hand in hand with his pathologist.


	2. Cuddling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's day two, with the prompt "cuddling somewhere" Hope you like it!

“I made some popcorn,” said Molly, walking out of the small kitchen in her flat. “I didn’t know if you wanted any, but a telly marathon requires popcorn in my book.” She set the bowl down on the coffee table in front of the sofa and smiled at Sherlock who was curled up on her sofa in grey sweats, a teeshirt, and one of his ubiquitous dressing gowns. 

Molly headed back into the kitchen, returning with two large glasses of water. She set them down near the popcorn. “Be right back. If you’re going to be all comfortable, I’m putting my pyjamas on, as well.”

Molly returned and sat down on the couch. Sherlock reached out an arm, pulling her against him. Sighing happily, she leaned her head into the crook of his arm. Handing Molly the remote from the side table, he said “I can’t believe you’re getting me to watch this.”

Molly turned on the telly. “I can’t believe that you haven’t seen a television show that has been airing for over fifty years and is an international sensation. We’re going to start with the modern era Doctor Who, however, with the Ninth Doctor. They do a pretty good job of explaining the backstory, many people haven’t seen the older ones.”

Three episodes in, they finished the bowl of popcorn Molly had made, and Molly was now laying with her head in Sherlock’s lap. “Sleepy?” asked Sherlock.

“One more,” said Molly, yawning. “Then I should sleep.” She hit the play button on the remote again, and the theme song filled the air.

Sherlock reached down and carded his fingers through Molly’s hair, lifting it gently from beneath her and working it into small plaits. Molly sighed. “That feels so nice.”

Sherlock smiled down at her. “So, Molly?”

“Yes, Sherlock?”

“I’ve really been enjoying our time together, even when you make me watch terribly unrealistic fictional television.”

“I’m glad.”

“I’m glad we’ve become friends.” said Sherlock. “But I like when we cuddle, too.” 

Molly rolled over, laying on her back with her head in Sherlock’s lap. She looked up at him. “Oh?”

“Yup.”

“Sherlock,” said Molly softly, “Are you saying you’d like to do...more than cuddle?” 

Sherlock leaned down and his fingertips down the side of her face, coming to rest on her shoulder. “I think so, yes.” 

Molly opened her mouth to speak, but Sherlock cut her off. “I’d be a lousy boyfriend, Molly.”

Molly laughed. “Sherlock, you already come and go as you please, disappear for days on end, cancel plans at the last minute and forget promises. Yet, you’re here in my living room watching Doctor Who with me. I know who you are, Sherlock.”

Sherlock looked at her for a moment. “Then, Molly, I suggest we turn off the television and you let me snog you senseless.”

“I think that’s the first time you’ve told me to do something and I’ve totally agreed.” Molly sat up and leaned over, pressing her lips against Sherlock’s.


	3. Gaming

Molly didn’t notice the door to her flat being picked open over the sound of gunfire and the occasional bits of yelling she was doing. Sherlock slipped into her flat, closed the door behind him, and stared into Molly’s sitting room.

Molly was perched on the edge of her sofa, a video game controller of some sort in her hand, screaming at the television as she jammed her fingers onto the buttons. Sherlock slipped off his coat and scarf, neatly hanging them on the hooks by the door Molly had put up for that purpose (“Stop putting your coat on my sofa, Sherlock, especially when you’ve been smoking. It smells, and I don’t want my sofa to smell like an ashtray.”). He continued to watch Molly, transfixed by this side of Molly he’d never seen before.

“Aw Fuck.” said Molly, tossing the controller down on the sofa next to her and sitting back. 

“Molly?” asked Sherlock, quietly.

Molly spun around to look at him. “Oh! Hi. Um, just killing zombies over here.”

“Zombies.” deadpanned Sherlock. “Is this something you do often?”

Molly shrugged and picked the controller back up. “Occasionally. When I need to let off some steam.”

“Don’t let me stop you, if you wanted to continue.” said Sherlock, sitting down on the sofa next to her. “Although it is kind of alarming to see you killing things with such...gusto.”

Molly raised her eyebrows and gave Sherlock a cheeky grin. “There’s lots you don’t know about me. Guess you aren’t as good at deducing me as you thought.”

Sherlock pondered this for a moment as Molly started the game back up, working her way across a desolate city landscape, shooting at zombies and occasionally yelling profanities.

“I rarely deduce you,” Sherlock said quietly as Molly played the video game, taking advantage of a lull in the action. Molly glanced over at him.

“What?”

“I said I rarely deduce you. Intentionally, anyway. I used to, but I always ended up offending you, so I just sort of...stopped.”

“Christmas,” said Molly, reloading her weapon and shooting as three more zombies came into her field of vision. “You deduced my gift that Christmas, but you missed the important part.”

“I did. I can’t ever apologize enough for it. So if I never realized you spent your free time playing violent video games, it was because I’ve tried really hard not to learn anything about you you didn’t want me to know.”

“And I appreciate it,” said Molly. “Fuck. Dead again.” She turned off the video game console with the controller and set it down on the coffee table. 

Sherlock picked up the controller and looked at it. “Teach me to play sometime?”

“Sherlock Holmes, playing video games?” Molly smiled at the idea. “Sure. Not today, though, I think I’ve had my fill. Why are you here, anyway?”

“Mycroft said he was dropping by Baker Street. I didn’t want to be there.”

“Well, then would you like some tea?” asked Molly.


	4. On A Date

Molly nervously picked at a piece of lint on her dress and watched the door. Sherlock had asked her to meet him at Angelo’s, and she had of course acquiesced, but he was now ten minutes late. She sat at what Angelo had assured her was the best table in the restaurant, and sipped on a glass of wine he’d brought her.

Just like the git to invite me out somewhere and then forget about me, she thought, glaring toward the door. It was probably an experiment to see if I’d still do anything he asked.

Sighing, she took a gulp of her wine and picked up her bag. Well, she wasn’t going to make a bigger fool of herself than she already had. Standing, she got the attention of the waiter. “Put the wine on Mr. Holmes’ bill.” she said, starting off to the door.

And it was that moment when Sherlock appeared in the door. He saw her walking towards the door and there was a stricken expression on his face. He hurried over to her. “Molly! My apologies for being late. Don’t leave.” “Please?” he added belatedly.

Molly sighed and nodded, turning around. She went back to the table, past the confused waiter. “What’s going on?” she asked the moment they were seated.

“John said I should bring you chocolate.” he said, reaching into the pocket of his Belstaff. “But I was overwhelmed by the choices and it took me a long time to decide on this.”

He pulled out a box of expensive looking chocolates and thrust it at Molly over the table. She took it, peeking inside. “They look amazing, Sherlock. Thank you. But why?”

Sherlock looked momentarily confused. “John said I should bring a gift to a first date. Was that not right?”

Molly’s jaw dropped and she carefully set the chocolates down on the table. “Is that what this is about? This is a date?”

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. “When a person asks another person that they are emotionally and sexually attracted to on an outing, it’s generally considered a date.”

Molly retrieved her previously-abandoned wine from the table and drained it in a single gulp. “Emotionally and...se..er, um….”

Sherlock picked up his menu. “I would recommend the lasagna, but I have some experiments at my flat I thought you might want to help me with later, and the ricotta might be a little off-putting. Perhaps the spaghetti and meatballs, then. Most everything here is good.”

Molly picked up her menu, hiding her blush behind it. She was on a date. With Sherlock.

“Sherlock?” she said, setting down her menu. “Are you really? Attracted to me? This isn’t some sort of trick?”

Sherlock reached across the table, beckoning for her hand. Molly handed it to him. “No, not a trick, Molly. Just me, finally getting my head out of my ass.”

Molly stared at him for a moment. “Well, then tell me about this experiment you have planned for us later…”


	5. Kissing

When Molly walked into the lab, Sherlock was already there, perched on one of the stools and staring down into the microscope. The good microscope. The one she had planned on using herself.

“Sherlock, you know you’re not supposed to be in here unsupervised.”

“Mmm,” said Sherlock by way of response. Molly rolled her eyes and set down the tray of samples she’d brought in with her. She looked around, trying to decide where she could set up. Finally picking a microscope a few seats down from Sherlock, she started preparing her slides.

“Mike has really been giving me hell about you being in here alone, Sherlock. I don’t want to get in trouble but if it comes down to it, I’m not going to cover for you.”

“Sure thing, Molly,” said Sherlock noncommittally, still not looking up from what he was doing.

Molly closed her eyes and counted to ten. It was one thing for Sherlock to be distracted by his work, but this was important. He needed to know how close to the line he was treading. Shoving her first slide onto the microscope she decided to ignore him for a while. Maybe when he finished whatever he was doing, he’d be actually capable of conversation.

Forty-five minutes later, Molly was done. Other than to send a few texts on his mobile, Sherlock hadn’t stirred from his seat at the microscope, placing slide after slide onto the tray.

Molly stood up and cleaned up her mess, making sure everything was put back where it belonged, the samples that were being kept were properly stored, and the ones that weren’t were put in with the medical waste to be destroyed. 

“Sherlock?”

“Mmmm?” he hummed again.

“Sherlock?”

She walked up and stood over him. “What are you doing that’s so fascinating?”

“Case.” he mumbled, never picking his head up from the microscope.

Molly tapped her foot. Finally, she couldn’t take it any more. Reaching out, she hooked her finger tips under Sherlock’s chin, turned his head toward her, and planted a kiss directly onto his lips. Pulling back, she stepped away.

“Molly?” he said, standing up. “What was that for?”

“I couldn’t think of any other way to get your attention. You’ve been completely ignoring me the entire time we’ve been here and we have GOT to talk about you using the lab unsupervised.”

“It was nice.” he said quietly.

“Being in the lab alone?” asked Molly, uncomprehending.

“No. The kiss.” Sherlock stepped to Molly and reached two hands behind her head, pulling her to him and pressing his lips against her. After a moment she felt his tongue working it’s way across her lips, and she opened to him.

When they finally broke, panting for breath, Sherlock put his hands behind his back and looked down at her. “I think my case can wait a little while. Shall we continue this back at Baker Street?”

Molly blushed, but quickly pulled off her labcoat and hung it up. “Yes, please!”


End file.
